Stress Relief
by Horsegirl4goldie
Summary: Knock Out talks Ratchet into getting a pet organic, but Ratchet is not so sure that he's convinced it's worth it... Neither mech nor human are thrilled with each other, but it had to happen eventually since everybot's doing it... AU, set before the Great War even started.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Welcome everybody! I used to watch Transformers Animated way back when it aired on Cartoon Network and was fanatic about it. Now, with the help of le internetz, I have re-kindled the fire - and watched every other world and generation of Transformers that ever existed. **

**So, here is my first attempt at writing about everybody's favorite medic! This story takes place before the Great War even began, Optimus is still a young Prime, and a rebellion is brewing under Megatron's leadership. Of course, nobot knows that it's Megatron that's orchestrating the whole thing... **

**As to what generation the Cybertronians are, I would say that I tend to draw from a general consensus of all the different worlds. However, I do like to think of Ratchet as his character from Prime, because that's my favorite. Also, Shylight and Monitor are my own characters. **

**Chapter One**

Not Interested

"… and then it did the _cutest_ little dance for me!" Shylight finished her story as she flitted around the berth to hand a wrench to Monitor. Monitor took the tool from the femme with a smile.

"You pet sounds delightful, and it certainly seems to be pleasing you."

Shylight nodded. "I really don't know how I could stay online without him. All the stress just seems to melt right out of my frame when I play with him. He's just so _darling_…" Knock Out, at the helm of the patient, agreed heartily.

"Pets are a wonderful thing, Shylight." His practiced servos expertly rewired the mech's processor. "Caring for a pet has been shown to lower fuel line pressure, relieve work stress, and have positive effects on the strength of your spark." He winked saucily at her and Shylight giggled delightedly.

"Oh yes, and they're a wonderful way to meet new mechs. I take my pet on all of my social outings, and there's even a little club for owners of organics!"

Monitor leaned over and gave the fourth medic a charming smile. "So, what do you think about humans, Ratchet?" A red and white helm rose from bending over a datapad.

"Unh?" the medic grunted, interrupted from creating new lines of code to be placed in the damaged mech's processor. Then he gave a condescending snort. "Organics? Waste of time."

"Ratchet!" Shylight whimpered.

"It's true!" he snapped grumpily. "First off, they're filthy. They excrete all kinds of disgusting oils and even 'eliminate' waste out of their afts!"

"Now, Ratchet, there are ways of handling that little issue," Knock Out attempted to soothe. "Their habitats come with waste eliminators that do the job for you, and you can hire a maid to clean the habitats themselves. If your human is smart enough, you can even train it to clean the habitat by itself!"

"They really aren't that slovenly, Ratchet," Shylight crooned softly. "They are surprisingly easy to take care of."

Ratchet shook his helm. "But they require care, and that's the last thing I need on my already _busy_ schedule. I don't want to have to battle these Primus-forsaken messes all day just to come home to a screaming, stinking organic…" Shylight frowned, hurt at the rebuff, and Monitor hurried to comfort her.

"Well, I, for one, have made up my processor to get a pet." He smiled at Shylight. "Would you go with me to pick one out after our shift ends?" Shylight clasped her servos.

"I would love to!" She sighed happily. Ratchet grunted as he leaned over his work, trying to ignore the slight pang of loneliness that bounced around in his spark.

Ratchet's motor growled as he drove home, exhausted. He eyed the looming, shiny new building on East Iacon Street. Pet organics were the newest fad for the Iacon elite. Cybertronian researchers had discovered a little planet called Earth that contained organic creatures structurally similar to Cybertronians. The researchers had tamed and marketed the little humans as entertainment for mechs with too much time on their servos. The fad had really taken a hold on Iacon when Stardancer, a famous musician, had not only obtained one of these pets, but also brought it to every one of her concerts and even trained the thing to play a crude instrument. Organics became all the rage then, fully fashionable with outfits to dress them in, habitats to customize, and little toys for mechs to play with their organics. Ratchet had to concede that the humans were very trainable, but otherwise he thought they were disgusting. Who could possibly think little squishy bags of flesh and plasma were _cute_? They eliminated, they purged, they excreted, their plating flaked off in microscopic particles, and worst of all, they could fall ill so easily it wasn't even laughable. They were a waste of time and credits. Of course, Knock Out owned one, and Shylight was quite the follower, but now Monitor was going to get one just to flirt! Ratchet's engine gave a chug of a snort. He shouldn't care; he was far too old to be playing that kind of game…


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Another chapter so soon? It's a miracle! I honestly am not quite sure where I'm going to take this thing, but I'm intrigued by the thought of the interactions between mechs and humans... And the Autobots and Decepticons interacting with each other before they were, well, Autobots and Decepticons! **

**Chapter 2**

Taking the Plunge

A week later, Knock Out cornered Ratchet in the Alpha wing of the Iacon First Hospital.

"Look, Ratchet," Knock Out shuffled his pedes, "I heard what you said about pets last week, but quite frankly, I've been concerned about you."

"I'm _fine_," Ratchet growled, not liking where this conversation was going.

"Not exactly, no," Knock Out shook his helm. "You and I both know that your fuel line pressure is off the charts and has been for vorns." Ratchet scowled, having no argument and no excuses because it was true. With a job like his, it was impossible not to have physical manifestations of the extreme stress. "Not only has research determined that having a pet helps with stress levels, I've experienced it myself. There's just something relaxing about caring for something that you know probably isn't going to offline on you."

"And what if it does!?" Ratchet shot back. Knock Out said patiently,

"You don't have to be the one handling the medical side of things. A veterinarian will handle that. Now, I took the liberty of ordering a human for you." Knock Out raised a servo at Ratchet's strangled cry of protest. "_And_ I filled out the personality test. I know just as well as you do that you don't need some squealing, hyper little sparkling running around and grating on your sensory net. The personality test is designed to pair mechs with humans that will complement them. You _need_ something to help you manage your stress level, and you and I both know that getting so overcharged you can't even stand on your own two pedes is not the answer."

Ratchet stiffened ever so slightly. "And what glitch told you that?"

Knock Out rolled his optics. "You did. You come into your shift every morning and take out your hangover on us. This morning you threw wrenches and kept screaming that we were 'slagging glitches'."

The Chief Medical Officer crossed his arms. "So I have a drinking problem. Tell me how that concerns you again?"

"It's not healthy and is damaging your systems. I really think getting you a pet will help take some of the strain off of you." Knock Out patted him on the shoulder. "Consider it a gift from an old friend."

Ratchet stared up at the pet store with a scowl. The storefront said, 'Happy Sparks Pet Shoppe'. Knot Out passed him with a reassuring smile. Ratchet studied the display windows. The promotional advertisements showed organics playing together, kicking a little black and white ball around, cuddling with a mech, and nibbling on a little piece of their organic pet food. An obnoxious dingling noise sounded as Knock Out opened the door and the two mechs entered the shop. A femme approached them around a row of shelves. She was clasping her servos in delight.

"Welcome, welcome to Happy Sparks Pet Shoppe! My name is Matchmaker. May I interest you in our new line of tropical habitats? Oh, and I _must_ tell you that we have the most popular line of pede-covers in stock."

Knock Out gave the femme his most charming smile. "I believe that my old friend here needs an organic first before he can purchase your valuable products." Matchmaker practically squealed in delight.

"_Wonderful!_ Oh, I _love_ making perfect pairings between mechs and organics! Now, I have to ask you to fill out this questionnaire datapad…" She started to bustle off but Knock out caught her arm.

"No, Madame, we are not here to find a match but to pick up an order. We filled out a Mech Matching Test and I believe that I was to pick up the results at this location?"

Matchmaker shuttered her optics a few times before smiling happily. "Oh yes! Follow me." She led them to the back of the store and to her sales counter. She pulled out a datapad and scrolled through it. "Knock Out, I presume?" she asked Ratchet politely.

"No, that's me, but that's the correct order," Knock Out chuckled. "This fine mech's name is Ratchet."

"A pleasure to meet both of you," Matchmaker shuttered her optics at Knock Out, and it was clear to which mech she was speaking. Ratchet crossed his arms. Matchmaker turned back to Ratchet, her faceplate taking on a more serious expression. "Now, sir, before we continue, we need to go over a few important rules. Firstly, humans are extremely fragile," she sighed regretfully. "You must be exceedingly gentle with them. Their tiny frames cannot take stress and even tossing one up in the air and letting it fall would cause enormous damage. Though I am sure you will not have difficulties with your tender medic's hands." She smiled endearingly and Ratchet shuttered his optics at her, irritated.

She continued, "Secondly, human beings require fuel in the form of organic material. You can purchase meal packets that have the recommended amount of food to be fed three times daily. Now, humans are different than mechs in regards to their systems. If a mech consumes too much fuel, they become overcharged. If a human consumes too much food, their bodies turn the spare energy into squishy cells called fat cells. These fat cells compile on top of the human's systems and expand their frames, causing them to become overweight. This is very unhealthy for the organics, so be sure that you do not overfeed them and that you play with them so that they get plenty of exercise." Ratchet nodded in understanding, the medical side of his processor spitting out annoying questions. How did humans become overcharged?

Matchmaker continued. "Now, lastly, your human has had some health problems in the past." Ratchet frowned, and Matchmaker hurried to say, "Oh, it's nothing you need be concerned about! When we first discovered Earth, the humans were positively riddled with diseases and malfunctions in their systems. But thanks to our brilliant bioengineers, we have been able to heal every single one of the organics' sufferings. Let me just see what procedures your pet had…" She pulled a datapad out from under the desk. "All right. Your organic has had optic correcting surgery, having very poor vision and a stigmatism. It had a problem with its fuel functions called insulin resistance, but that was corrected. Its joints had a tendency to be loose and weak, and it had a condition where obstructions tended to form in its liquid filtration systems. It had its equilibrium centers re-balanced and it has received the vaccination for an auto-immune cell-eating virus called cancer. Because if the procedures your organic underwent, you can be sure that your organic will never suffer from these ailments ever again. However, as I'm sure you can imagine, its frame will be quite stressed with so many changes. As just a precautionary measure, I would strongly suggest taking your organic to a veterinarian for the few weeks. The vet will make sure that your organic is properly adjusting to its modifications and can answer any questions you have about its care." Matchmaker brightened and clapped her servos. "All righty! Now the nasty, boring part is over and the fun part begins! It's time for you to meet your new best friend!" Ratchet ex-vented deeply with dread.


End file.
